#which I think most ''normal people'' would just ignore like ''oh yeah I'll just load myself up on ibuprophen and coffee and energy

[icewindandboringhorror]

feeling sick constantly in the background all the time is like.. usually negligible-ish.. until multiple various chronic background issues all happen to overlap at once and then it’s like 

[bothzangetsus]

Half-agree half-disagree? Mostly agree.

I've always hated the way Matsumoto reassures her by saying Ichigo is an ignorant, helpless kid who needs Inoue and that she goes out of her way to say Inoue doesn't have any need to be jealous.

See, yeah, this is blatantly wrong when looking at it factually, but Rangiku doesn't know Ichigo. She doesn't care about him beyond 'oh, yeah, that kid that helped stop an unjust execution' -- she's operating on the assumption that he's a normal teen with normal priorities and normal load-bearing abilities. She assumes that he, like most people, want to share their burdens with their loved ones, and she assumes that Orihime is a loved one. Pretty much all of those assumptions are wrong, but they're normal ones to make! (And might in part be made due to her own past.) On the other hand, she knows Orihime on some level, so she can at least accurately pinpoint what emotion it is that she's feeling.

I'll disagree that Inoue's perceptions are never resolved. They are! ...when it comes to Rukia specifically. And it's because Rukia herself approaches her first, not knowing anything about the jealousy. Because Rukia chooses to open up to her. Which is not a good look for Orihime, lol, but that part does get resolved!

And I think she's been stuck in her ways from the beginning -- she didn't want him to go rescue Rukia. She masked it right after, but it was clear she would rather Rukia die than someone she, Orihime, personally, cares about get hurt. At least by the end she doesn't even entertain the idea that it's better for others to die than for her loved ones to risk themselves.

she seems to double down on the "I'm doing everything for Ichigo/to protect Ichigo" and hardens the "pure princess" act even more.

Her power is to reject reality for a reason! :P It reflects her character! Fullbring is the ability of love for Riruka, the ability of pride for Chad, and the ability of denial for Orihime. (I wish fandom played in that sandbox more. It's intriguing! It's infinitely more interesting than acting like the pure princess thing is played straight, because it is not. She herself asks herself 'why?' when all she can do is beg a corpse for help rather than stand on her own two feet!)

I just feel, at the end of the day, this scene was mainly about Matsumoto being naked and manhandling Inoue first to titillate male readers and as a distant second gave some character growth potential for Inoue that was almost immediately dropped.

LMAO. Yeah. It was very much a breasting boobily moment, but it did serve to help her snap out of it.

You know, I genuinely like this moment despite the framing of it. Rangiku is being very emotionally mature and giving Orihime good advice, and this is an excellent moment for Orihime herself -- a rare occasion where she's forced to confront her own emotions and what they mean, and move forward while accepting she's felt them. Denial is her biggest flaw/hurdle, and Rangiku saw it clearly.

[bonnymori]

01 | 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫... 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭?!

chapter 01 / chapter 02 / chapter 03

Word count: 1250+

Synopsis: During a particularly boring afternoon, a muscly man with a purple worm around his shoulders has made his way onto your house- literally, smashing through your window- and, subconciously, onto your life.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Fushiguro Toji x gn!Reader, theres also Gojo cat as your cat!! (2) Reader finds Toji's worm cute; i'm sorry if you don't just skip that part (3) There's some cursing but I promise next chapter won't

A/N: I have a lot of drafts and this is the most normal looking I've got... so let's post it first ehehehhsjhd- Also, I'm remaking the structure of the posts (Megumi's one-shot is updated with the very same visual as this!), hope it looks less unorganized! Thank you for reading <3

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To think you'd let such a stranger barge into your apartment- actually, you would never imagine such a comeup. But here are we.

Right in front of you there is a man. Raven locks, black shirt, white baggy pants - is that a purple... gut, intestine thing around his chest? - and a pair of imacculate ballet shoes on his feet. The dude is knocked out cold, it seems that he barely made it through your window, only to come head first against your floor tiles. Now you have drops of blood all over the floor and counter- and, a bleeding man.

You can't tell which task will be more grueling to solve.

Because you have a working brain, of course the man comes first. No matter if your window is broken, and a handfull of glass shards adorn your countertops. And now you've accidentally stepped upon one- just then you realise the man's back must be feeling like a bed of thors- or shards, over being dragged through the floor.

So you throw his arms - which you notice, has a few cuts here and there - over your shoulders, and picks him up in a one-person carry; barely, his torso is against yours and legs are dangling on the floor, this guy must weigh the double you do. It feels like you're carrying a fridge.

From your peripheral, you can see Satoru paddle to the kitchen's doorframe, probably wondering if you were preparing a meal for him or whatever.

"I'll be back in a moment, Ru." He meows a reply, dragging his mountain of fluff back to your couch- you're certain he's taking your spot, while it's still warm.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for you to reach the bathroom, dropping the man leisurely upon your fluffy mat. Beside all the cuts, the man has already a plentiful share of permanent scars, and none are of your business, you don't care. It's like cleaning and stitching up a old doll full of tears, by the way you're able to maneuver his limbs; you're glad he's still unconscious.

But the thing around his shoulders is not.

In a blink of eye, it jumps from his shoulder to yours, attaching itself to your back and nestling upon your shoulder. When you glance down at it, it feels like a weird looking parrot.

"Hi?" You ask, it looks back at you. "Are you like, his pet or something?" It doesn't talk, just gazes at you through half lidded eyes; so you give up on short talking it, not knowing what you expected yourself. "Let's go finish my movie then!"

You join Satoru on the couch, the cat rapidly making room on your comfortable lap; and the man forgotten, snoring soundly on your bathroom.

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A sequel and half movie later, you hear a loud thud coming from the kitchen. Even though you're aware there's a strange in your house- the sudden sound still naturaly jolts you out of your seat.

"UGH- Goddamn it-" Next comes a colorful list of slurs; a sigh makes way out of your mouth.

You round the corner, pointing a accusing finger to the strange man, who's laying on your floor again. "No cussing on my house."

"Why didn't you even clean this floor, it's loaded with glass shards."

"I wanted to finish my movie afternoon before doing so. Besides, what made you smash through there," You point to the ruined window. "to here." Then, to the kitchen floor. And finally, motioning to your whole apartment.

That was a interesting question, he expected a "Who are you?" or "I'm calling the cops!" call.

"I don't need to explain you shit."

"Think of it as an retribution, since I patched you up, answer my question."

"No."

"That, or you'll pay for my window."

A sigh. "Fine. I was being chased."

"You're a criminal, then?" You questioned.

"Yes." A devilish grin made its way to his face, showing canines and stretching the small scar on the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, just don't get me involved then."

Toji is familiar to that sort of outcome. Sometimes people man up, people weaker than him. But he knows he's intimidating, and he absolutely loves to play with the attitude of those who challenge him.

Forgetting the shart carving on the sole of his feet, he walks up to you efortlessly, towering over your frame.

"Well, are you not scared to have a criminal inside your house?"

"No, I'm not defenseless. And, you're bleeding. Again."

"Shit." Toji sits down close to the wall where it's safe, twisting his leg to bring the injured foot up to his face. He easily plucks the reddened shart between thick digits, and throws it far away from him.

Meanwhile, you bring your first-aid kit up to him, setting it down near.

"Here, use this."

"..."

"I'll do it for you then." You wasted no time, reaching for the line and thread. Once everything was stitched, you wrap a bandage around his foot, then pats it finished. "What's your name?"

"Fushiguro Toji."

"I'm L/N Y/N, lost all your bite huh?" You tease.

Casually ignored. "Why do you have a first-aid kit? Most people don't have it on their houses."

"I practice muay thai, it's useful both for me and you."

"Right. Have you seen my worm?"

"Well, make yourself at home, until your feet gets better. And yeah, your worm jumped at me like those surprise music boxes, and now it's on the couch with my cat. It's been watching movies with us."

He was beyond curious, because the worm didn't have a thinking mind nor knew what even meant to watch something. Toji limped to the doorframe, eyes widening once he spotted the worm wrapped snuggly around your very fluffy cat.

"That's some cute shit."

"The worm is gross."

"I think it looks cute."

"You're batshit crazy."

You stretched your limbs. "Whatever, let's waste some more time watching TV."

Toji sat down - mind you, taking a handful of space you were not content with - once you picked up "both" animals to make room. He thinks you're weird, seeing the fact you didn't question what the hell was that giant-purple-moving worm, and for letting in a random guy inside your house. You do fight a martial art, though, but most people wouldn't have such confidence on him - a dude build like a truck.

There's some survival show playing in the background, yet he's beyond bored watching it, so he settles in questioning your questionable manners.

"How are you so chill about everything?"

"Oh well," You seemed focused on the show, surprisement showing itself once you turn to him. "I see these things in a daily basis, so it's really no big deal after a while."

"Curses?"

"Yep."

"You-"

"I'm going to clean the kitchen. Also, I ask you once the skies darken, to leave my house."

"..."

"Is there a problem?"

"I got no hideout out there."

"Suuure you don't." You sighed. "Alright, the couch is your best option; if I hear rumbles at night, or if you steal me or something, I'll be the one chasing you."

"Right, have fun cleaning the blood stained kitchen."

"The audacity." You left with a smirk, shaking your head.

Although you're weird, so far, you're also the most interesting individual Toji has come up to par with; something in this house prickles at his skin to stay. Plus, the fluffy cat laying on his lap is very cute aswell.

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[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter six - “lake, the sequel”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: reader seeks out bucky after his dramatic exit and they find themselves earnestly conversing... back at the lake

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: this story is available on my wattpad as a bucky x OC fic @ / typicaldaze :)

He didn't like this feeling. No, he didn't like this feeling at all. He hated it, in fact. It was betrayal, bodily betrayal. He just could not sit in that room any longer or he would've peeled his skin off. His lungs felt as if they were bound with barbed wire and the state of his stomach had him worried he was going to throw up. Most of all he felt guilty. How could he have just stormed out of the room like that? She was going to hate him now. How could he let this happen?

He was thinking this over whilst sitting at the lake, hands in the grass, trying to distract the physical body from the mental cacophony he had just endured. He had somehow found his way there after leaving Y/N. These extremely unpleasant sensations were unfamiliar. Was he sick? Could he have been drugged? He was so confused. Bucky realized he seemed to be confused most of the time. Following that realization, he became mildly pissed off.

The super soldier stared out at the lake. It was a calm day, the water tranquil and clear. It was a stark contrast against his stress. He leaned forward and looked into the water at his reflection.

"Damn," he said out loud.

Is that really what I look like now?

His eyes traced over the long shaggy hair, dark under eyes, and the subtle but noticeable worry lines. This sight reminded him of when he broke the mirror at his old place in Bucharest. Now he remembered why. God, he looked as fucked up as he was. He leaned back and tossed a stone at where his reflection had been.

A deep sigh left his lungs, which were now conveniently working properly.

"Fuckers," he muttered, referring to the mercurial organs.

He had spent nearly two years alone in Bucharest, and he had grown accustomed to living in this new body. He was always on edge, that much he could tell. However, he was never too introspective; he never thought about his feelings or his behavior. All he was focused on was surviving. When there is more to life than survival, that's when things get complicated... not that they weren't complicated before. God, he was running in circles inside his own mind. His scarred and ruined and manipulated mind that resided in this body that was used as a tool for destruction and violence and death-

"Hey."

His head whipped around, startled out of his thought frenzy. Always on edge. Mentally, he shook his head in disappointment.

"Oh! (Y/N)!"

He stood up immediately. "Listen, I'm so sorry about before, I don't know what-"

"It's okay," she said quickly, holding up her hands. "Bucky, you do not need to apologize, everything is totally fine."

He was taken aback. Words didn't seem to work.

"I'm not mad if that's what you were thinking," she said.

"You're not?"

"No, of course not. If anything I was worried."

"I- Worried?"

"Yes, you were clearly in distress, and that room was the last place you wanted to be. I'm glad you found your way back here because you look much better now," (Y/N) explained with earnest eyes.

She could tell he was freaked out? She probably thinks he's insane.

"Yeah, I... I think I'm better now."

He was far from okay, but definitely better than before.

The psychologist sat down next to where he was standing. He didn't move, but looked down at her.

"I don't think it'd be wise to leave you alone here considering you're supposed to be in a session with me right now and you can't go anywhere without an escort. It would most likely lead to suspicion and then trouble you don't need. I'm going to stay with you. We can continue the session if you'd like, but if not we can just sit."

She said this all while looking straight forward at the water.

In all honesty he wasn't sure what to say, so he settled with a breathy, "Okay," before sitting down next to her.

"I'm getting the vibe that this is more of a just sit situation..."

"Yeah... I think I'm all therapy-ed out for today," Bucky said in a meek attempt at a joke.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a wide smile. He then realized that she didn't know he could see it, and that's why this smile seemed different. Most differents in Bucky's life hadn't been outstandingly pleasant. But this was a welcome different. This was a good different. It was genuine and unbridled. That was the most open he'd ever seen her.

Every now and then he forgot that he was a literal trained super spy. He may not have any PhD's, but he had his own way of reading behavior, cues, and subtleties. Perhaps he'd make an effort to be more observant. Perhaps he wanted to learn a little more about what else was behind this new different.

A few beats of comfortable silence passed before he heard the word again.

"Hey," (Y/N) started softly. "I'm sorry if I went a little too far today. I know I said our first session wouldn't be much, but I realize I was pushing too far."

"Oh, it's okay," Bucky replied, looking down at the grass between his knees. "I think it's more my fault anyway. It's not like the questions were super intense."

He let out a loaded sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Bucky it's really okay. If it's anyone's fault it's mine. This whole process is supposed to be based on your comfort levels and at your own pace. And there's nothing wrong with you. Your reaction was completely normal given the circumstances."

Bucky wasn't terribly familiar with reassurance. He turned his head, looking at her dead on. She was so genuine, like she knew all of what she was saying was the all encompassing truth.

Echoes of different combinations of "there's nothing wrong with you" and "completely normal" and "your own pace" flitted around inside him until they melted into a feeling he hadn't felt in so long: hope. It was horrifying... yet it gave him a kind of relief he didn't know he could feel.

The super soldier then realized that (Y/N) was looking right back at him dead on. He was about to stumble through some sort of apology for staring or thankful expression for her kindness, but he noticed that she didn't look like she was necessarily waiting for a response. She was just... looking.

Bucky tried to say something, anything. But he just couldn't seem to pull his eyes away. In this brief moment, he felt crystallized. His conscious, logical brain was somewhere far away, hypnotized by the stillness of the moment. It was only a few seconds, but somehow felt longer. These very few seconds of mental sedation were soon over.

Speak, idiot.

He snapped back to reality, suddenly finding himself inspecting at the grass below him.

"Thank you."

"Of course," she replied without missing a beat. Her tone of voice was water soft.

"(Y/N), do you... do you know what happened with me earlier?" he asked, cautiously. "Like, what was wrong- I mean, not wrong but why I-"

He sighed frustratingly, cutting himself off.

Her face was patient, but she was waiting for a description of something he didn't know how to describe.

"I know I said we were done for today, but I-I don't know how to explain it, and I want to know what it is," he confessed.

"I think you had an anxiety attack."

Anxiety? That couldn't be right. There's no way that could've been from being nervous.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Anxiety. It seemed as though you were experiencing high amounts of anxiety. Most people get nervous at times, but those tiny amounts are normal. But, some other people are a lot more nervous a lot more of the time. Sometimes, these peoples' anxiety can get particularly high and be so overwhelming that their body kinda takes over, and they can experience really uncomfortable physical symptoms, and this can turn into an anxiety attack."

"I thought I was... sick or... or drugged or something."

"Well, I'm almost certain you weren't drugged, and I'm pretty sure you can't even get sick."

"Oh."

He honestly didn't know what to say.

"Bucky," she looked straight at him again and he almost felt himself slipping. "In terms of psychology, a lot has progressed since the 40's. I'm not sure how anxiety was presented or studied then, but there's really a lot more to it than people think. And honestly, given your situation, it would be strange if you didn't develop an anxiety disorder."

Anxiety disorder?

"Anxiety disorder? I have that?"

"Well, again, I think we have to do more work to confirm, but that's what it seems like."

"I thought you said I had PTSD?"

"I do. I think you have both."

Christ.

"Wow, I'm a whole sack 'a problems, aren't I?" he chuckled, giving up on trying to internally oppose his short comings.

"You're not a problem, Buck. You had to deal with a whole sack of problems, though," she smiled.

The nickname didn't miss his radar. Was that the first time she's called him that? He ignored how he liked it.

"That's for damn sure."

They conversed for a while after that, and didn't seem to notice how late it was until the sun began to set. The ending day's reflection on the water created an aura so relaxing Bucky didn't want to move. But alas, reality calls.

(Y/N) stood up. "If you're not back soon, they'll start looking for you. We should probably get going."

Bucky stood up, too, following her request.

"I'll walk you back to your quarters," she offered.

And so they went, conversation continuing naturally, as if they were old friends. Bucky found it strange that someone he knew so little was so easy to talk to. He brushed it off as some inherent therapist quality.

He still found her hard to read although he knew her more with each passing word between them.

Despite all of this, the walk back, with cool air, a melting sky, and languid steps, was the best thing he had experienced since coming out of cryo. His memory may be spotty, and his mind may be rough, but this, this he was sure of.

[whatyourfathersays]

goodbye → brad simpson

"I think we should break up."

The six words felt like daggers in your heart as you stare at your boyfriend of three years. It wasn't a surprise to you, not really; you'd been expecting it. Nonetheless, it still hurt a lot for it to become a reality that you're losing one of the most important people in your life.

The first sign that you'd noticed Brad Simpson was falling out of love with you was when he had planned a trip to Harry Potter World in London as a fun surprise for everyone who had worked on the new EP with them. It was celebratory, a way to finally relax after months of hard work since the EP finally came out the day after.

There were loads of you, Brad and the boys, their manager, photographer, producers. But someone who stuck out to you was a girl with long dark hair, red lips and a kind smile.

"Some people are coming over for us to take them there," Brad says as he grabs his car keys from the kitchen side. "Couldn't get their own ride there so I offered."

"Okay," you smile, pushing yourself off of the kitchen counter you were leaning against before kissing his cheek three times like you always do. It was a tradition, one that neither of you ever broke.

Until today, when Brad grabbed his phone and walked off without returning the three kisses.

You tried not to be upset by it and sighed, turning to grab your drink from the side before walking into your bedroom and beginning to get ready for the day ahead.

Brad was sat on his sofa the entire time, messaging the group chat he'd made for the day. He forgot to add you, so the inside jokes would fly over your head later that day when they all met up for the trip.

Brad huffs as he looks at the time on his phone before standing up, walking to the room you both shared and standing at the doorway with his arms folded.

"You almost done, Y/N?"

"Yeah, just finishing up my makeup," You smile back. "Wanna sit down and talk for a bit?"

"No, I'll be okay. Gonna go grab some food," Brad decides despite not being hungry. You frown as he walks away, digging for his phone that he left in his pocket.

You tried not to be affected by the distance he'd created with you already today, even though it was barely reaching ten in the morning.

Finishing off your makeup, you go down to the lounge where Tristan and a girl with long dark hair sat with Brad, all laughing.

You smile at Tristan who notices you first, causing Brad to look over his shoulder at you as he sat next to the girl, his wide smile slowly falling as he looks over at you.

"Ready to go?" Brad asks you and you nod, grabbing your handbag as Brad grabs his car keys again, everyone getting on their shows and coat.

The girl with dark hair saunters over to you and smiles kindly. "Don't think we've ever met, but Brad's told me a lot about you. Just thought I'd introduce myself; I'm Bella."

"Hi," you smile politely back. "I'm Y/N."

The girl didn't seem awful, in fact she was quite nice as she complimented your outfit and make up and you couldn't fault the fact that the boys worked with her as she had probably had undeniable talent with production and songwriting.

"Let's go, ladies!" Tristan cheers, slinging his arm over Brad's shoulder. You quickly put your coat on and follow everyone else out of your house, waiting for Brad to lock the door before walking to the car with him.

He seemed distance physically from you, a meter between you both as you reach the Ranger Rover that he'd saved up and bought.

You grab the door handle to the front passenger seat, pausing when you see Bella say in the front seat.

Brad notices, too, looking at you over the car roof. "Just get in the back, Y/N."

"But I always sit in the front," you pout.

It's true, you always have sat in the front. No matter who you were with, Brad would always make sure his girl was at the front with him where he could put his hand on her knee. If it meant getting Connor (he usually forgot the unspoken rule) to move into the back seats, then Brad would refuse to leave until his friend moved away so you could sit next to him. He was always one hundred percent adamant that you sat next to him, always.

"Don't be mardy; get in the back."

Tristan noticed how odd Brad was acting towards you and rolls his window down, offering you a smile.

"Come on, Y/N, join me," he grins and you nod, a sad smile on your face as you got into the car, sat behind Brad.

The ride was awkward, to say the least. Tristan tried to make you feel comfortable but Brad spent the entire time making jokes with Bella that you didn't understand.

"Remember on the group chat when Connor accidentally sent his ballsack to us?" Bella laughs, causing you to frown and turn to Tristan.

"There's a groupchat?"

"Yeah, Brad made it," Tris replies, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Did he not add you?"

"No, he didn't."

You look off out at the landscape, hoping it was just a mistake but everything was piling on. From not returning the three kisses, not wanting to sit with you while you got ready, not letting you sit where you usually do in the car, and now a group chat without you in it? It was starting to make you a little suspicious that something was going on with Brad.

Once you arrive, your excited mood had already been dampened as Brad got out and dug his hands in his pockets, sauntering off to find the rest of the crew that were coming.

Bella and Tristan struggled to keep up with Brad themselves, and it didn't help that you were too sad to walk at a normal pace so you simply just walk slowly.

When you join the entire group, everyone was there. Connor, James, their girlfriends, Joe and Laura, Dean who was filming Brad who was talking, Tristan and Bella talking to each other, some producers you'd never met. All in all, you felt very excluded by no fault of your own as they spoke about topics that were discussed in the group chat that you weren't added to.

You begin the tour around Harry Potter World, trying to stay close to the group but Brad ended up walking ahead with Bella and Tristan. Joe noticed you looked upset and offered to walk with you, which was great because you got along well with his wife, Laura.

Once the tour had finished and you'd bought some goods, everyone made their way outside. While most people left, the main four boys, Bella, Joe and Laura, Dean and yourself all stayed to go and get some food at some local shops.

"Brad," You call out his name and he looks over his shoulder. He doesn't offer you a smile, his eyebrows furrow.

"What's up?"

"Just thought I'd walk with you because I haven't seen you much since we left," you smile, hoping that he was in a bit of a better mood now. You assumed he was stressed about today since he'd planned it and wanted it to go perfect so, for now, you let him off for upsetting you.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that."

"It's fine; where do you wanna eat?" You try to engage conversation with your boyfriend. "Nando's? Frankie and Bennies? Wagamamas?"

"Don't know."

Ignoring his bluntness, you nod slowly and let out a small sigh.

It was a week later of Brad doing interviews and life shows before tour started and to celebrate, Dean had released a video diary of the trip to Harry Potter World to the fans.

You watched it while you were in bed and Brad was showering. You noticed how sad you looked in the background without even realising it, and the fans had picked up on it too.

Have Brad and Y/N broken up? I didn't see them talking once.

Bella and Brad would be such a cute couple wtf.

Y/N never deserved Brad anyway.

You shut your laptop lid as Brad walked into the room, fully dressed as he climbs into the bed.

He rolls over, his back facing you as you put your laptop on the side, flicking off your lamp so that darkness surrounded you.

"Brad," You whispered through the darkness as your throat constricted with conflicted emotions.

He glances over his shoulder at you. "What?"

"Can we talk?"

"About?"

"Us," you reply and that catches his attention, causing him to turn over. "I think we should break up."

The six words felt like daggers in your heart as you stare at your boyfriend of three years. Never in a million years would you think you'd be laying there breaking up with him, after everything you've been through.

"Okay."

But that single word hurt more, like it was a twist to the heart, making your skin crawl with unwanted emotions.

"That's it?" You reply, surprised.

"If that's what you want, then yes."

You didn't expect for him to not at least try and fight for your relationship. You expected him to want to talk about it, convince you to give him a second chance; not just. . . let you go. That hurt the most.

"Yeah, that's what I want," you say just above a whisper, your voice cracking as silent tears escape your eyes. You didn't realise it'd be this easy for him to let you go.